Pulchritudinous
by PolarisRain
Summary: I watch him everyday. He sits there, under his usual tree in the school's courtyard. A full yogart carton sits beside him. Vanilla of all the flavors in the world...One shot. S&R. Yaoi. Fluff. PG13 for language


Pulchritudinous  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-gi-oh. Damn. *snaps fingers*  
  
Warnings: Shonen-ai. Little bits of Yaoi. Not much else. Oh! PG-13 for vile language.  
  
Thanks to: Dictionary.com to look up a couple big words ^_^. Don't worry. They aren't THAT big.  
  
Author Notes: Meh. I've been bored, and this is just something to do. I hope you like it though. ^_^  
  
~~~Ryou's POV~~~  
  
I watch him everyday. He sits there, under his usual tree in the school's courtyard. A full yogart carton sits beside him. Vanilla of all the flavors in the world. He never eats it. My prediction is that he won't eat tomorrow either. The day after doesn't look any different either.  
  
In his hands, is a book. His eyes drifting from passage to passage in a manner that seemed as if he was too sophisticated for the words. Normally, it was a textbook he was abosorbed in. On occasions a vigorous novel with an epic ending would sit in his lap. I would know what books he reads, because once I see the title of the book, I read it myself.  
  
He sits in the shade of the blossoming tree, and he does not move nor look up from his hardcover until the noon bell rings. Then, he's off to a class that I do not attend. I don't like the fact that he leaves me.  
  
For he is all I think about. He's all I stare at. The one object of my desire and lust, is him.  
  
Yet, he has no knowledge of this fact. You would think he would from the many times we "accidently" make eye contact, but no, he does not. You would imagine him, the child prodigy of our generation, to even get an inkling.However, you would be wrong. Even if he did know, he probably wants nothing to do with me. This has been going on for a very long time, and if he was interested, he would have said something by now.  
  
Do not worry. This ranting is nothing new. It's the same thing everyday. For some reason, I have not grown blase of the redundance.  
  
The dreaded bell echos through the yard, and he closes his book with the delicate fold of his strong hands. He stands, and abondans his yogart. He would have never eaten it anyways.  
  
He walks past the table I am sitting at. I face to look down at the notebook I had sprawled over the table's surface. Nevertheless, my eyes had to wander over to him.  
  
His walk was so... like him. Strong, confident, fearless. Yet, he doesn't flaunt the power he has in his possession. He keeps them all tight into his stiff stroll. Not a feeling leaking out. Just the way he likes it. It seems as if he hates to reveal his vulnerability.  
  
His trenchcoat billowed in the sudden cool breeze. A shower of cherry blossoms coming into veiw. He paid no mind, regardless of the beautiful sight. I was in pure awe. I wanted to keep that image in my head forever.  
  
He was truly a piece of artwork. Artwork made by the Gods. With flawless skin, there is not a blemish nor a freckle to be seen. His face was chisiled to perfection. His chestnut hair frames his face, and I can only dream of how it must feel. Each strand must be a new form of silk, and everyday, it seems to be combed to completely flawlessness. (A/N: Yes. Flawlessness is a word. Who would have guessed?) I could die in those eyes of his. I wallow in their shocking color of blue. They remind me of water. When he's relaxed under the tree, they're the calming color of ocean, but in front of someone such as Yuugi, or even Katsuya, they darken and shine with the power of a tsunami. I constantly contemplate on what they would look like when he was making love. I could imagine the shades of blue swirling together, making a dazzling sensation run through his lover's spine.  
  
I doubt he's ever had a lover. We both only being seventeen and sixteen years old. I only fantasize and wonder, but I will bet to all hell, that it's the most alluring thing on this planet.  
  
You should not fear me. I do this all the time. I sit here and gaze at my crush. I have no care in the world. My friends are not as close to me as they are to each other, and as for my darker half? He refuses to look me in the eye.  
  
There I go with eyes again. Why did the Gods make my eyes such a vile color? They are such a tawny shade. They make me look like a small boy. Acting as one is bad enough. Looking the part is just annoying.  
  
I suppose I admire him. My infatuation I mean. He's so strong and brave. He's so... unlike me. I am but a fool. A klutz like none other. I have never seen him quiver under pressure or even trip on a blade of grass. I know it sounds ridiculous, but it happens to me at least twice a day.  
  
For two people that seem so contradistinct, he and I have so much in common.  
  
Without much family, the loved ones we still hold onto are drifted from us. My father is always on the go and disappearing for his job. His younger brother and he never have time to spend together because of his job. It's not fair, but it is unfortunately unchangeable.  
  
That is not all. We also seem to share the burden of anti-social skills. I don't think he has had a friend in his entire life. I have friends. Just... okay I really don't have friends.  
  
I don't think neither he or I understand why we are who we are. I don't think anyone knows the answer to that. Still, it's something we have to compromise to. Even though it brings along bad karma and conflicts. I hate that. All well. I suppose, as my darker half puts it, we're both fucked up.  
  
My watch beeps, and it's time for my study hall period. Damn. I enter the classroom full of less than a dozen students. The study hall isn't that big, and I like that. It's less of a distraction. Sitting at my desk, I prop my head up with my hand. My elbow resting on the cool surface. Realizing I have nothing to do, my mind wanders back to him.  
  
I think our similarities end when it gets down to how we deal with the constradictions in our lives. I, normally, just live things through. For example, look at my yami. He beats me within an inch of my life, and what do I do? I cry. I breakdown and curl up in a ball until I realize that one day, I will be away from this mess. That day seems so far away.  
  
I don't know how he would deal with such a situation.Probably because it's too difficult to imagine him whimpering in fear. There are sometimes that I can see him in the form of a lost child freezing in the dead of winter. Shivering from lack of warmth and love. Then, there are times I see him as a king. A royal majesty looking down at all those unworthy.  
  
I see the king more than I see the boy.  
  
There is a feeling in my gut that he finds someway to escape it. His brother once said he buries himself in his work to evade any pain. It seems acceptable, but I don't think that's where he hides. Maybe... no. I doubt that as well.  
  
"Mr. Kaiba." I almost hurt myself from whiplash as I face the door. The supervisor in the room has address his name, and there he was. Standing in the doorway. Was it just me, or did he just glance over here?  
  
"Excuse me, Sensei. I was transfered into this study period." he handed her a note, and once again, I felt his eyes on me.  
  
The sensei approves, and he takes a seat behind me. Bastard. Now I can't see him. Something tells me he planned that all along.  
  
I start to randomly sketch lines in my notebook, pretending I'm preoccupied. I won't let him feel the satisfaction that I'm completely giddy to see him.  
  
Minutes that seem like hours past, and the lines in my notebook start to look like his face. Not that it's all that exceptional. I was never an artist. Well, at least I didn't think I was to be one. I'm more of a writer than a drawer.  
  
Sensei suddenly clears her throat and announces she will be stepping out of the room for a little while, but will return before we know she's even gone.  
  
Many of the students watch her depart, me being one of them. My pencil glides over what should be his bangs, and I peer down at the newly made marking. It should be more to the left. I flip the pencil over, and erase it, quickly redrawing it to the way I think is right.  
  
Suddenly, I feel his breath tickling my exposed skin near my neck and shoulder junction, "So, how is Bakura Ryou today?"  
  
I stiffen, and mumble softly, "I'm fine, thank you, KaibaSeto." I don't even return the question. I'm completely aware that he's flashing his trademark smirk at me.  
  
He gets closer to me, and asks dangerously low, "Just fine? Is something irritating you?"  
  
If I wasn't afraid then, I am now, "N-no." I stare into the pencil lines in my notebook.  
  
Backing up, he says, "I see." and he sits back into his seat. Just as Sensei walks back in. Well, will you look at that? He has perfect timing as well. This man knows no such thing as disfigurement.  
  
The bell rings after what felt like an eternity, and I gather my things. He glides past me, and slips a piece of paper into my pocket. As if I didn't feel it. I hate that smirk on his face. It makes me wonder if he plots everything to happen the way it does.  
  
Walking down the hallway, I take the paper out of my pocket, and unfold it. Inside, is a note written in his curly, but not too feminine handwriting. I will have to practice it later.  
  
"Bakura Ryou,  
  
I know I may sound blunt and rather forthright. My apologizes in advance, but I must ask you. Would you be willing to meet me this evening at five? Please contact me with the phone number at the bottom if you wish to.  
  
~Kaiba" At the bottom were several digits. Each carefully written.  
  
I think I stopped walking in the hallway, because the next thing I do, someone had pushed me over, trying to get past me. Quickly standing, I pocket the note, and run out the door, my soul soaring on cloud nine. To think it was only from an invitation!  
  
Sprinting home, I reach my house is almost half the time than I would normally. I kick off my shoes, and look at the clock. It's only been ten minutes since school was dismissed. He could not have gotten home that quickly.  
  
Then I remember... he had a cellphone.  
  
I jumped to the phone, lifting it off the charger. My breath suddenly seems to stop. I was about to call him. Him... the one I desire more than anyone in the entire world.  
  
My thumb hovers over the touch-tones. It's not that hard. I try to reasure myself, but I think I'm getting in over my head. Was I really ready to meet him one on one? Face to face. Just the two of us. Alone.  
  
Biting the heck out of my bottom lip, I punch it two numbers, and hang up. I need to think a bit longer. After my first attempt, I try at least three more times. I didn't get very far.  
  
Just my luck, I hear a low cackle behind me. I heave a sigh, and turn around, "Good afternoon, Yami."  
  
My darker half is sitting on the kitchen table, a popsicle halfway in his mouth. I will never understand why he likes those so much. He crossed his arm, with one hand still around the stick of the popsicle, "Hikari... you try too hard. Kaiba-fuck won't like you if you keep acting like such a fool towards him."  
  
I see red as he refers to him as "Kaiba-fuck", "Yami... do you not have anything better to do?"  
  
Finishing off the frozen treat between his lips, he throws the remaining stick onto my clean tabletop, "Of course I do. I just need the phone, you idiot. Hurry up and call your loverboy before I pound the shit out of you."  
  
I wasn't sure if he meant that erotically or with his fists. With another sigh, I give him the phone, "My call can wait." He smirks and runs off. Hopefully, he'll return the phone before five.  
  
~~~  
  
I hate time. If there was no time, there would be no lack of paitence. There would be no such thing as tardiness. There would be no such thing as earliness. I stare at the clock. Watching the second hand tick the moments away. Without time, clocks wouldn't exist either.  
  
It's almost twenty of four. What is taking Yami so long? He's doing this to torture me. I know he is. He wants to see me suffer.  
  
Just as the thought runs through my reverie, he emerages from his room in the basement, "The phone's all yours, Love-struck." he tugs on his jacket, and escapes the house clad in leather pants and a tight shirt. I will never understand my yami's style.  
  
Without thinking, I punch the cell number into the telephone. It wasn't until I heard someone on the other line say, "Kaiba." did I realize what I was doing.  
  
"Hello?" his voice asks.  
  
I squeak out a small, "Hi." I feel the blood rise to my face. What was I thinking?  
  
He sounded amused, "Oh. Hello Bakura. I see you've gotten my letter."  
  
"H-Hai..." I sound like such a child, "W-where would you like to meet up?" there. I said a full sentence. That wasn't as difficult as I thought it would be.  
  
"My house." he responds, sounding a bit less gruff and cold as usual, "Could you possibly get here in a hour?  
  
I glance at the clock again, "Quarter to four? No problem." My voice sounds a bit more natural. That's always a positive thing.  
  
I can just see the look on his face. It probably isn't all that unalike as mine. "I'll open the gates for you. Talk to you then." and he hangs up.  
  
Unable to control myself, I give a whoop for joy. I put the phone back on the charger, and once again, my eyes stray to the clock. I gasp and hurry up the stairs. If there was no such thing as time, I wouldn't have to hurry.  
  
~~~  
  
I smoothed my hair as I rang the doorbell. The front door to the Kaiba estate was bigger than it looked. The whole mansion was large and intimidating. It frightened me to just think I was moments away from seeing the person that owned the place.  
  
I was greeted by the jubilant Kaiba. He beamed at me, "Hiya Bakura Ryou! Big brother is up in his room. Come on in." he moved over. I stepped into the enormous estate, and goggle at the foyer.  
  
Taking in the atmosphere of casual, yet elegant decorations, I noticed the little Kaiba was giggling. I quirk an eyebrow, but a faint blush runs across my cheeks, "Sorry." I say, "I'm just not right in the head today."  
  
He shakes his head, raven hair falling over his shoulders, "It's alright. A lot of people do that when they first get here. You get used to it." he moved over to the stairs, "C'mon. I'll go show you where Seto is." he pronounces the second syllable stronger than the first. He was so cute.  
  
We journey up the stairs, and my breath escapes me again. I'm growing irritated by that.  
  
"What's the matter, Bakura?" Mokuba asked, blinking at me halfway up the stairs.  
  
I shake my head, and answer with a pleasent, "Nothing." of course it was nothing. I'm just about to go meet my biggest addoration, alone, for the first time ever. Of course it's really nothing, Mokuba. You can think that if you wish.  
  
Our walk leads us down the darkest hallway I have ever been in. The third floor looks abandoned and cast off. It was if we were in a completely different house compared to the bright foyer and stairways.  
  
"Big brother's room is right here." we stopped at the end of the nebulous passage. A pair of large oak doors in our way. The middle of the doors are engraved with an 'S' on the left door and a 'K' on the right. Here we were. Moments away from seeing each other. Face to face. I think I wanna either throw up or pass out. I think fainting would be less painful.  
  
Mokuba knocked on the door lightly, "Big brother! He's here!"  
  
The door opens, and he immediately makes eye contact with me. His eyes were a calm pond color today.  
  
"H-Hello, Seto." I mumble.  
  
He nods at me and his brother, and invites me inside, "I'm glad you could make it." and he soundlessly shuts the door behind me.  
  
The bed chamber is beautiful. Cover in different shades of dark blue and golds. Like the colors of a king. Several blue eyes white dragons were spread around the room as well. I noticed the desk in the corner of the room had an engravement of the duel monster on the surface.  
  
I lick my chapping lips, and allow myself to take a seat on the small loveseat he has by the fireplace. This room was amazing. I mean, a fireplace?  
  
"You're probably wondering why I invited you over..." he assumes. I was too busy worrying about the butterflies in my stomach to ask. He takes a seat in the chair across from me. He has a grin on his face. Please God, don't make this too good to be true.  
  
He doesn't let me answer before he goes and says, "In all honesty, I don't know why I did either." he sighed, and I was amazed that he pulled out a pack of cigerettes, "Do you mind?"  
  
I shook my head so fast, I got dizzy, "No. Go ahead."  
  
He lights one up, and I notice a disgusting color of green tainted his eyes. I guess he finds the habit to be degrading and a disgrace. I wouldn't blame him. Yami smokes as well, and he doesn't seem to like it either.  
  
Getting out of his chair, he goes over to a vast window, and opens it slightly, "Anyways, I suppose you think I'm really bizzare." he takes a long drag of his cigerette, and he exhales the smoke through his nose and out the window, "I think I just needed to talk to somebody. Other than my computer." he glances at me to see if I can comprehend him.  
  
I fold my hands over my lap, and nods slowly, "I understand. I feel that way a lot too. Yuugi..." I hesitate, "and everyone always seem to treat me like a third wheel of some sort."  
  
Flicking the cigerette out the window, he makes a sickening face. It was a cross between a scowl and as if he wanted to vomit. Sighing, he shut the window, and sat down once more, "Maybe that's why I asked you over. You and I... seem to have a lot of similiar problems. I thought... that if I talked... you would apprehend the things coming out of my mouth." he suddenly got a playful expression on his face. It was adorable.  
  
The corner of my lip turns up a smile, "I'm all ears if you'll listen to me."  
  
The purest of smiles I have ever seen spreads across Seto's lips. I'm sure that if someone came charging in and shot me, I would die a blissful death.  
  
~~~  
  
If there was no such thing as time, I wouldn't have cared. For the two hours I had spent with him were, the best two hours of my entire life.  
  
When the gold watch around his wrist had made itself known. Seto sighed, "It's already getting really late. Would you like a ride home?" he offered for me to leave, but I could see his eyes were full of sorrow. I take it he hates time too.  
  
I had accepted his offer, and the two of us were sitting in his car. We were moments from my street, and nothing has happened. Did he like me? Well, he obviously liked me, but did he like me... like that? Do I have the guts to ask him? What if he only wants a friendship? Oh damn! I hate love.  
  
The front of my house has never looked so dingy. I think compared to the Kaiba estate, my house equals the Domino garbage lot.  
  
"Bakura..." he sighed and started over, "Ryou... thank you. I really needed to talk to someone. Maybe... we could do it again sometime?"  
  
My chest swelled, and I beamed, "I would love that." I opened the car door, "Thank you for the ride home, and for having me over. I enjoyed myself too." it was now or never. I could get out of the car and ruin my chance at putting a move on Kaiba Seto. Or, I could go for it. However, if he doesn't comply, I'd never be able to look him in those eyes again.  
  
There was a certain discomfort on his face as I begin to climb out of the car, "I suppose I'll see you at school tomorrow?" I ask, facing him.  
  
He nods and puts on a smile that isn't as good as the genuine one. He sighed, "Yes. Thanks again."  
  
Biting my lip, I scramble back into the car, and give him a hug, resting my chin on his shoulder. I would never imagine this to feel so... perfect. I felt his body tense, but it soon relaxed, and I felt his strong arms embrace me, one hand smoothing my hair.  
  
Pulling away slightly, I catch the color of his eyes once more. I know it may sound ridiculous, but I think I'm never going to look at anyone else's eyes as much as I do his, "Sapphires."  
  
"Excuse me?" Seto blinks, his arms not releasing me.  
  
"Your eyes. I've never seen them so blue. Like sapphires, but they're too.... animated to be stone." I explain, my shaky hand reaching to touch his cheek, my thumb under his right eye.  
  
His body relaxes, and his gaze softens, still releasing the azure color, "I've never seen eyes like yours either."  
  
"Mine? They're so plain.... you must have seen eyes like mine a million times." What was he playing at?  
  
Shaking his head slowly, strands of his mahogany hair moved across his face, "No. Yours are such a beautiful color. A soft, caring, auburn. They carry so much warmth and depth."  
  
I have never heard such words come from anyone's mouth about me. I think that was the moment I was waiting for. Leaning in the slightest bit, out lips touch.  
  
Electrical bliss. That's how I sum up the kiss. With the softest brush, every feeling in my body left me. All I could ardor were the plush velvet texture of his lips. I have wanted this feeling for so long, I can't believe it's actually happening. He softly returns the action of affection, and my face flushes. He was an incredable kisser.  
  
When he pulled away, the ignition that was in my body seemed to disappear. I look down. What was going to happen now?  
  
He lifts my face with a finger, and I don't do anything about it. My body is still experiancing the numb sensation from his kiss.  
  
"Ryou..." he whispers, planting kisses onto my face. I smile warmly. Each press of his lips seemed to have a meaning with a special place for it to go.  
  
I sighed softly, and whisper back, "Seto... " I leave his arms, and exit the car again, "... I'll see you tomorrow." I shut the door.  
  
He nods, and with a smile, watches me go into my house. Before I step all I way in, I flash a grin and wave him off. There's a strange floaty feeling in my stomach. I wonder what he's thinking.  
  
"Awww widdle Wyou gots a kissy?" I see Yami sitting on my kitchen table again.  
  
"Yami...." I take a deep breath, and gathered up my courage, "Fuck you." I give him an uncharateristic smirk, and run up the stairs. Plopping down onto my bed, I sigh happily.  
  
Seto Kaiba is all mine. He's clearly an angel. No one could be so pulchritudinous. That's what I'll call him. Seto Kaiba...my pulchritudinous angel.  
  
~~~End~~~  
  
Rain: Whew. What a long fic. I worked REALLY hard on this one. I wouldn't stop thinking about it until it was done. I didn't try to rush anything, but I didn't make things drag along. Anyways, thanks for any reveiws, and I hope you enjoyed this a lot! ^_^ Ja!  
  
FYI: Pulchritudinous: Having great physical beauty and appeal. 


End file.
